“Are you sure of this?” Agrat asked as she turned to face Camael.
“I am. I spoke with the Thrones this morning on the subject. I wanted to be clear on the situation, and I wanted to share the knowledge with you.” He regarded her seriously. “I hope that it helps a little.”
Agrat didn’t know what to say. She swallowed against the lump that had risen in her throat. “It does. More than you know. Thank you, Camael.”
“We are angelkind,” he said, his mental voice gentle. “I felt that you should know and the Archangels have much work already. They would not deliberately forget, but this crisis is making everyone muddled.”
“No, I understand. I don’t have the words for how much I appreciate this, Camael. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Thank God,” Camael said with a shrug. “It is His will and His doing. Eisheth will rest in peace, surrounded by the love of the stars that she herself so loved.”
Agrat used her wings as rudders to propel herself to Camael’s side. She hugged him and kissed each of his cheeks. “This means everything to me.”
“I am glad to have helped.”
“You did. Thank you. Again.”
Camael smiled. “You do not have to thank me. Do you wish to stay a little while?”
Agrat nodded. “Yes.”
“Then I will leave you to commune with Eisheth’s extended family in privacy.” Camael gave her a shallow bow.
She smiled at him and when he vanished, teleporting away, Agrat turned her attention to the stars, floating among them, listening to their songs as they told her stories about her sister. It was several hours later that she teleported back to Earth and Yerevan, and she felt restored by her time in space. Her grief had receded a little, leaving a faint melancholy in its wake, and Agrat felt as though she could now move on with her life and her duties.
Shateiel was waiting for her on the rooftop. His expression was one of concern for her and she moved to him, hugging him tightly.
“Are you all right, wife? Camael told me where he took you.”
“I am. I’m much better now.”
“Good, I am glad to hear this.” Shateiel kissed the top of her head, and Agrat looked up at him.
“I think I can function now.”
“That is always good to hear.” Shateiel smiled gently at her. “Lord Michael and Lord Gabriel have returned. It is thought that Lord Raziel will be here soon. Did you wish to accompany me to the meeting or spend some more time up here?”
“I’ll come with you.” Agrat stepped back, taking Shateiel’s hand in her own. “It was very kind of Camael to show me the stars and tell me what will happen to Eisheth’s soul.”
“It was,” Shateiel agreed. “I am glad he thought to do so.”
“You’re such a good soul, Shay,” Agrat said.
“I try.” Shateiel smiled again. “Come along, my love. Let us see what our superiors have to tell us.”
“All right.” Agrat leaned close to him as they made their way to the service stairs that led from the roof to the topmost residential floor of the building. “I admit I’m curious to know what’s going to happen next.”
Shateiel huffed a laugh—a sound like the rushing of air during a summer storm. “As am I. We are all curious. Lord Uriel grows vexed, however. He misses Lord Raziel a very great deal, and he is worried. It is making him remarkably cranky.”
“Uri’s always cranky,” Agrat said, following her husband down the narrow staircase.
“That is the truth, certainly. Perhaps I should have said that he is five times more cranky than usual.”
“That’s a lot of crank,” Agrat said, and Shateiel laughed soundlessly. At the bottom of the stairs, she looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I love you,” she said.
“I love you also, Agrat, beloved wife.” Shateiel kissed the tip of her nose. “Let us go.”
“Okay.” Agrat let him lead her down the corridors toward the next flight of stairs down to the floor with the rooms that had been turned into a makeshift conference room.
URIEL WAS pacing back and forth, and Gabriel wished fervently that he’d stop. The pacing did nothing to alleviate the tension in the room.
“He is worried,” Michael said in an undertone to Gabriel.
Gabriel grunted. “He can keep in touch with Raz, so I don’t see why he’s so pissy.”
“As I understand, Raziel has told him not to.” Michael shrugged as Gabriel turned to look at him. “I believe that Raziel wanted to be left alone to speak with God.”
“Huh.” Gabriel digested that. “Okay, then I can understand his frustration. Still, Raz’ll be back soon.”
“I know.”
At that precise moment, Raziel walked into the room. His eyes were tired, but his expression was triumphant.
“About damn time you got back,” Uriel said, spinning to face his lover.
Raziel rolled his eyes. “Do you mind? Must we do this now?”
Uriel’s eyes narrowed and he folded his arms over his chest, his chin stuck out pugnaciously. Raziel sighed heavily.
“Very well. Everyone, please excuse me for a moment? Uriel, come here.” Raziel turned on his heel and walked out.
“This’ll be loud,” Gabriel predicted.
“I fear you are right,” Michael said.
It was loud; they could all hear Uriel yelling and Raziel’s voice growing louder. Gabriel winced. Some things, he thought, shouldn’t be audible to everyone. To gauge from the expressions on the faces of those in the room, Gabriel wasn’t alone in his opinions.
Ten minutes later, Uriel stormed back into the room, his expression like a thundercloud. He sat down at the long table that stood against one wall and scowled, as if daring anyone to say something to him. Raziel followed a moment later, looking resigned.
“Let me get to the point,” Raziel said. “Uriel and I have many things to discuss, and we will do that in privacy after this meeting.”
He took a deep breath. “I have received information and orders—such as they are—and now I know what actions we must take. To begin with, the suggestions made regarding going back in time are approved. I, along with Uriel, Shateiel, Agrat, and the three Venatores named Angelique, Lily, and Danny, will go back to speak with Joseph of Arimathea. I have been told to seek him out in Roman Britain, and I have decided that it is best that we seek him out in the Roman settlement of Vinovia. In today’s England, that is the city of Binchester.
“We will be seeing him in the twilight of his life, near the end of the first century A.D. This was decided after considerable discussion between myself, the Thrones, and the Dominions. We chose this location and time because it was long enough after Boudicca’s revolt that Britain will not be in chaos. Joseph fled Londinium when word of Boudicca’s approach reached him, and he made his new home in Vinovia with his family.
“Vinovia is a Roman fort and a vicus. The vicus is on one side of Dere Street, one of the main roads in Roman Britain, and the fort is on the other. The Dominions tell me that there are many Roman amenities there. So that is the when and the where. While we are gone, the rest of you must do what you can to stop things going from bad to worse. I do not know how long we will be gone. I will not time our return too closely to when we leave here.”
Silence fell as Raziel finished speaking. Finally, Gabriel let out a low whistle and shook his head.
“That’s quite a job you’ve got ahead of you,” he said. “Can we help?”
Raziel looked relieved. “Thank you, Gabe. I need anything and everything you have that could be useful in Vinovia. Weapons, armor, clothing—everything. Our ruse is simple. I am a merchant from Rome, come to Britain with my ward—that would be Angelique—and her body servants, Lily and Danny. Agrat is my servant. Shateiel and Uriel are our personal soldiers. If anyone asks, our full train with supplies, more military and the like, are some days behind us, and I chose to go ahead to take lodgings.”
“Question.” Angelique leaned forward. �
�Why not just make the stuff we need with your power? I mean, why go to the trouble of borrowing old artifacts? Wouldn’t they look antiquey anyway?”
Raziel took a deep breath. “It’s less of a drain on our power to use things we have in the here and now,” he began. “What we’re going to do will require a lot of magic, for want of a better word, and while we are all rather strong, we are not omniscient. So instead of making things out of thin air and thus using our powers, we save a little by using existing items.
“As for the artifacts, we are all sentimental.” Raziel smiled faintly. “I would imagine that the things we have collected over the forever of our lives have been preserved by our powers to remain as pristine as they were on the day we acquired them.”
“Aye, that’s true,” Gabriel agreed. “I made damn sure all my stuff was well-preserved. Everything looks the same as it did when I put it in storage. And I did it that way, ’cause I knew I’d want something to remember things by. You humans do the same thing, yeah? With photos and letters and stuff like that?”
Angelique nodded slowly. “Yeah, we do. Okay, I get it. That makes sense.”
“Glad to be of assistance,” Raziel said, giving her a courtly bow. She laughed at him and he winked in reply.
“I do not understand,” Samael said, cutting into the conversation. “Why must you go do this at all? Why not appear to Joseph as a vision and speak thusly to him?”
“Because that would be remembered and talked about by too many people. The Romans are devout, and most of them aren’t Christian. Any sort of power will be detected by the priests and priestesses who live and worship in Vinovia. We need to be careful and appear as unremarkable as possible. Nothing that can be remembered through history can be done.” Raziel looked rueful. “I did ask if there was a quicker way. The Thrones say not. Their main concern was not making an impact on the past that could affect the future—our present. I understand their worries and agree.”
“I see.” Samael did not look convinced, but he did not argue. “I have some items from first-century Rome that you could use as well. Blankets and trunks, things of that nature. Some pottery. I believe I have some coins from Nero’s reign as well.”
“Thank you, Sammy.” Raziel inclined his head gratefully.
“I have things as well,” Michael said. He sounded thoughtful. “I must ask, however, how do you plan to communicate over there? You, Uriel, Agrat, and Shateiel will be able to speak Latin, but what of Angelique, Danny, and Lily?”
“I speak Latin,” Lily said.
“So do I,” Angelique put in.
“I don’t,” Danny said.
“Not properly,” Raziel said. “We’ll give you lessons. The Archangel way. In twenty minutes, you’ll be able to speak conversational Latin fluently and read it as well as you read English. You’ll be as Roman as the Romans.”
“Oh good, this means you messing about in our brains,” Angelique said. Then she laughed. “Just let us sit down while you do it.”
“Of course.” Raziel gave her a little bow.
“This is all very interesting,” Adramelek drawled, “but I still don’t see why you need to go back in time. What did your God say?”
Raziel hesitated. “I did not speak with Him.”
Adramelek’s eyebrows shot up. “Really now. How interesting. Why not, pray tell?”
Raziel ran a hand over his face. “He wouldn’t see me.”
Michael frowned. “What do you mean?”
“When I got to the Land of Light—Heaven, for those who don’t know—I was kept waiting for quite a while. Finally, after the equivalent of five days, God spoke to me. He didn’t see me. All I got was the sound of His voice. He told me that He knew what my basic plans were and they were fine, but He would have the Dominions and the Thrones work with me to finalize them before I returned to Earth. They would, He said, be able to tell me if I was overstepping any lines,” Raziel said.
“Why wouldn’t He see you?” Remiel asked.
“He said it isn’t time yet. Time, time, always time.” Raziel muttered the last to himself. “Something about how He and Lucifer can’t interfere directly, and that involves working on plans like this. We’re all balancing on a very narrow knife’s edge, I’m told, so we need to be careful.”
“That makes no sense,” Metatron protested.
“Have you been able to be in His presence since the trees started singing?” Raziel asked.
Metatron’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
“And I bet if you tried now, you’d be kept waiting like I was. We’re pretty much on our own.”
Metatron swore.
“I don’t like it either,” Raziel said. “But this is how we have to do it this time.”
“Well”—Haniel got to his feet—“it is time we grew up. We’ve been running back home every time there’s something we can’t do—less and less, to be sure—but we still do it. Now, we fly the nest and stand on our own two feet. And work together more than ever.”
“You’re a poet, Hani,” Raphael said.
Haniel laughed. “I realized as soon as I said it that I’d rhymed.”
“So what do you want us to do?” Adramelek asked.
Raziel pursed his lips. “You’re not going to like it.”
“Now what a complete lack of surprise that is,” Adramelek said.
“Watch your mouth,” Uriel growled.
“I can’t, Uriel,” Adramelek said. “My nose gets in the way. Now, Raziel, what do you need from my guild and me?”
“I need you to keep in touch with Lucifer and Lilith. Lilith was right about one thing—she is much closer to the planet than any of us. She’ll know if things start breaking down. I also need you to keep an eye on the demons who manage to come up to Earth and to see if you can find a door to Purgatory.”
Adramelek’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought only the Grail could open that.”
“It can. But Shateiel managed to get down there during the period that angels were being kidnapped and sold on the black market. I don’t think he’ll be able to do that now, though. I can’t; I’ve tried. So, we need a door. A window, hell, a cat flap would be good.”
“All right. We’ll do what we can. And if any of us should happen to come across Naamah?” Adramelek asked.
“I doubt that you will, but if you do….” Raziel shrugged. “I’m sorry, Agrat.”
“I know, Raz,” Agrat said.
“Death warrant, then?” Ondrass asked.
“Yes,” Raziel said simply.
“Interesting. All right, we certainly won’t be twiddling our thumbs while you’re enjoying Roman Britain and fermented fish sauce,” Adramelek said. “I’ve got a few things too, that you can have for this venture. I’ll go downstairs and get them.”
“Thank you,” Raziel said.
Gabriel noted that the youngest Archangel seemed more and more relieved with each passing moment.
“Now then,” Raziel said, straightening, “if you’ll all excuse me, my grumpy beloved and I need to go somewhere private.”
“Godspeed,” Gabriel said.
Raziel laughed. “I think I’ll need it.”
Uriel had moved to the door. “You’re damn right about that.”
Raziel rolled his eyes. “Drama llama. Come on,” he added as Uriel opened his mouth to protest. “Let’s go.” He moved to Uriel and clapped a hand on his shoulder. A moment later, they’d vanished.
“Well,” Gabriel said into the silence that followed their departure, “we’ve got our marching orders, yeah? Let’s get to it.”
“I think that sums it up,” Remiel agreed.
“I think Lil, Danny, and I had better go to a library,” Angelique said. “We should probably do some research so we know what we’re going into.”
Michael nodded. “That is a good suggestion. Camael,”—he turned to the angel who had stood silently by the far wall—“will you be so kind as to escort them to the British Library?”
“I’ll do that,”
Haniel said. “I’ll take the girls and Dan to see Penemuel.”
“As you say,” Michael agreed.
“Camael, I need to know what you found in the forests,” Gabriel said.
Camael gave him a deep bow. “I will be happy to fill you in, my lord.”
“Excellent. Let’s do that now.” Gabriel moved to the door, noting that Michael was following him as well.
“We have our plan,” Michael said at the doorway, “now let us get to work.”
A chorus of agreement came from the assembled, and Gabriel led his lover and Camael out of the room and toward the stairwell.
“There is not much to report,” Camael said once they were standing in the shadows and relative quiet of the stairwell at the far end of the corridor. “There were some forests with keys in the trees, and the dryads said they had always been there and always would be. There is, I am sad to say, nothing new to report.”
“How many forests had these trees?” Gabriel asked.
“I have a map.” Camael drew a folded piece of paper from inside his tunic. “I have marked the locations on it.”
Gabriel took it. “Thank you. Good work, Camael.”
Camael bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Now,” Gabriel said, tucking the map into the inner pocket of his jacket, “I need you to go and patrol. Keep your eyes open and your ears peeled. Let me know if anything strange happens, no matter how small it seems.”
“Yes, sir.” Camael saluted. “I will take two Seraphim with me.”
“Good,” Gabriel said. “Keep in touch.”
“Sir.” Camael saluted again and vanished.
Michael heaved a deep breath. “We have much to do,” he said.
“Aye,” Gabriel agreed. “You coming to Belle Coeur with me to help carry the stuff?”
“Of course. If you do not mind,” Michael said.
“Never. I want you to come with.” Gabriel ruffled Michael’s hair, laughing softly as Michael reached up to fix it.
“As you say.” Michael took Gabriel’s hand in his.
Gabriel gave Michael a quick kiss and then moved them straight to their house on the beautiful island of Belle Coeur.
The Crystal Lake Page 4
